Invader Scorned
by V the Happy Lurker
Summary: Dib, upon discovering that his nemesis isn't really a threat to Earth, decides to stop chasing the annoying little alien. But just because he's given up on Zim doesn't mean Zim's given up on him... Hints ZADR & Mildly confusing [FINISHED!]
1. In Mockery of Irk!

Damn! Has it really been two years since I've written anything new here? Ah, now I see that I truly DO have the attention span of a small, fuzzy rodent... Welcome to my second trip into the madness that is Invader Zim . !! I'm so HAPPY! And now, the legal crappola. MURASAKI!

**Chibi Murasaki: Ahem! All that is the glory of INVADER ZIM belongs to Jhonen Vasquez! And Nick. [Starts running around like a silly anime schoolchild... or GIR on crack...] **

_ALL HAIL JHONEN VASQUEZ!!! PRAISE TO THE ALMIGHTY TALLETS!!!! VICTORY FOR IRKEN ARMADA! SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!_

Oh-kay...{(v)(v);;}That's the last time I'm letting her go on a friggin' Pixie Stix© bender.

**An Invader Scorned...**

_Chapter 1: "In Mockery Of Irk!" _

Beaming proudly, Zim holds up a smoldering bucket of Southern-fried roaches. "Once again, sirs, I have thwarted an attempt by the foolish forces of Earth to infiltrate my base and compromise the mission."

"Well...erm, that's great, Zim." Red forces a smile as his co-ruler Purple leans off camera, retching and barfing violently.

"There's no need to praise me, your Tallest. I was only doing my Irken duty. Besides, the security of my fortress is so...secure that not even _germs_...__shivers... can get within a 100-mile radius of here with immediately alerting me to their... _filthy _...presence."

As he gloats about his base being impenetrable, the arrogant alien fails to see Dib wandering around the lab with a camcorder filming everything in sight. Purple, still a bit queasy, notices the betrench-coated boy as he zooms in one the monitor. He starts to say something, but Red nudges him sharply in the ribs, trying not to burst out laughing.

"Wow! This is going to get me the 'Mysterious Mysteries' E.T. Award for sure!"

"What the..." Zim whirls around to confront his persistent adversary. "YOU?!"

"Yes, ME!" Dib grins in triumph. "Not only have I penetrated your fortress and have definitive proof of your foul plans, but evidence of a whole race of **_evil_** infesting the cosmos! Soon, the WORLD shall know the truth and I'll finally be hailed as a hero!"

"Not if you're oh-so-very _dead_, Dib." With that, Zim deploys his spider-leg-thingies and lunges for him.

Jumping aside in the nick of time, Dib dashes frantically down one of the halls running off of the main lab. As the clanking scuttle of impending Irken doom begins to gain on him, Dib blindly opens a door and leaps into the room. To his surprise, he lands on or in something squishy and squirming. Cautiously, he fumble around and turns on the light to reveal that he is now knee-deep in malodorous, soiled...

"Pigs? PIGS?! Who the hell keeps a roomful of pigs in their secret underground lab of DOOM?!"

With a shrieking laugh, GIR pops out of a pile of..._nastiness_. "Hi there! Wanna play 'Roll in the Mud' with me and the piggies?"

He cocks an eyebrow. "Eh..."

Suddenly, a pair of metallic limbs pierces the door and rips it open. Thinking quickly, Dib dives underneath the masses of pig...stuff as Zim angrily strides into the room...and promptly slips in the filth, landing flat on his butt.

"Hi Master!" chirps the hyper robot, bouncing over to him. "Ah, you must like this game too..."

"G.I.R.! This is no time for games!" Zim roars with much drama. "The Dib has penetrated our base's defenses and is at this hiding somewhere! We have to find him before he can escape and expose our mission to the Earthen forces!"

"Understood." G.I.R.'s eyes turn red as he salutes smartly before powering up and jumps...back into the pig-pile.

Zim stands there a moment, glaring icily. "G.I.R.?"

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

"Digging in the piggy mud."

"I see that, G.I.R." the invader hisses, grinding his teeth. "And what was the order I just gave you?"

"Uh...hmmm....to...uh..." Him-hawing for a few moments, the little robot sits on a large heap of muck, thinking very hard. "OH! I remember now!" Gleefully, G.I.R. smiles and cries, "I've gotta find the big-head boy!"

"Very good." Zim sneers, slowly losing his temper. "Now tell me G.I.R., why aren't you searching the base?"

"But, Master..." Hopelessly, G.I.R. gestures toward the pig pile.

"I gave you an order to search out and destroy the Dib, not play in the... _filth_!"

"But Dib's right over..."

"SILENCE!" Glaring, Zim points down the hall. "I want you to check the Voot Cruiser dock while I go take a look around the storage chambers. He can't have gotten too far."

With a shrug, the robot skips down the hallway and his master bolts off in the opposite direction. After a moment, Dib burst out from under the pigs, gasping for clean air. As soon as he's recover from the pig stench, our intrepid paranormalist wannabe darts out in the same direction his nemesis went.

"Hmm...he's not in there." Zim mutters as steps back out into hall just in time to be run over by a fleeing Dib. Growling with rage, he lunges for his opponent... and gets a face-full of flung pig poop. While he is busy spazzing out, Dib makes for the exit and runs past the monitor.

Unable to help himself, he pauses before the confused looking Tallests to get in one last dig (and makes sure to point the camera at himself for dramatic emphasis). "See? Once again I, Dib, have thwarted your evil alien plot to invade Earth and enslave mankind! And, once this..." His voice trails off as Red and Purple burst out laughing.

"This is GREAT!" barks Purple. "The little Earth monkey really thinks that we want to conquer **this** stink planet!"

"Yah. This is even better than the time we blew up all those gaseous morons on Anu-S!"

"Wait a second," Dib says, looking at them skeptically. "You _aren't _going to take over Earth and enslave all of humankind?"

Red snorts back another laugh. "Of course not! We just sent Zim there to keep him out of the way long enough to complete Mission IMPENDING DOOM! 2."

"He personally destroyed the entire invasion fleet for IMPENDING DOOM! 1 and most of Irk last time..." added Purple.

Did gapes at them. "You mean he destroyed his own _planet_?!"

"Yes. Yes he did." Red grumbled, wincing at the bad memories. "And because of that, we exiled Zim to a life of miserable servitude and toil as a fry-cook in the hellish grease-pits of Food Courtia. Then we went about scouting enemy planets and strategic targets for the Irken army's next great mission of galactic conquest-- Operation IMPENDEING DOOM! 2! And everything was going _smoooooothly_... Well, smoothly until Zim heard about IMPENDING DOOM! 2 and decided to quit being banished."

"Yah, the moron." Purple quipped. "He crashed the Great Assigning, and demand that we give him a planet to conquer. Even after we were nice enough to award him that sandwich."

"The ingrate. Since Purple and I didn't really want him razing anything important-"

"Like our palace..."

Red glares at his co-ruler. "Excuse me? Who's telling the story here?"

"You are" meeps Purple.

"Right. ahem! Anyway, to spare our beautiful home world from destruction, I cleverly devised a plan to keep us Zim-free for life by assigning him to some random dirt-ball in the most distant part of the universe. That would be you're pathetic worm-planet, Earth."

"Ooh-ooh! Can I tell the monkey about the part were we gave Zim that defective trash-bot G.I.R.!"

"Why not? You're going to anyway..."

Grinning, Purple begins cheerily talking at Dib. "You see, earth-monkey, every Irken Invader gets their own robot slave to do any drudge work when they are assigned a mission. Of course, since we had to convince Zim that he really was going on a mission, he had to get a S.I.R. unit. So what I did was dig a paperclip and some coins out of my pocket for the 'brains' while Mister Grumpy-butthead here pulled crap out of the trash and slap them together, then handed it over to Zim. Oh, and I made the whoo-ooosh noise!. " He adds. hugging Red around the neck.

"All you did was put some lint and crap in it's head..." he muttered, blushing as Purple cuddles closer.

"So let me get this straight: You guys sent Zim to invade Earth just to keep him out of your way."

Red nods. "That, and we thought it was pretty damn funny."

Dib balks. "You mean Zim's entire mission has been a _joke_?"

"Why of course!" snorts Red, looking a bit...flustered by the attention his fellow tyrant is lavishing on him. "Do you think we'd even care about his stupid little reports if they didn't tend to be so frickin' funny to watch? Hell, his entire _existence_ is a joke! He's a complete and total failure as an Invader. Just a worthless, annoying, shrieky little meat-puppet flesh bag! I mean, one would have to have the brain worms to even consider Zim an actual threat by any stretch of the word! Course, since you're from a species of sub-intelligent filth-maggots, I'm not surprised that his incompetence would scare you."

"Wow." Dib stares blankly at the Tallest. "That has to be the single most mean-spirited and petty thing I've ever heard. Even from an evil alien overlord, that's pretty damn insulting..."

"See this?" Red made a gesture with his claws. "This is the smallest violin in the universe playing for Zim and you, worm-boy."

"Yah! Now be gone, stink-beast. We're busy, busy overlords here..." Smirked Purple as he started to tug Red away from the monitor.

Red blinked. "Eh? We are?"

"Yes, we are...Now, come 'ere! " came the rather breathy coo, then he yanked his fellow Tallest off-screen.

For several moments, Dib stared at the empty screen listening to the various nasty squishing noises, clangs, and rubbery squeaks before the monitor cut off. He turned, his 12-year-old mind shuddering at the trauma of mental images it was producing, and noticed his green-skinned nemesis standing behind him in shocked silence.

"Did you hear them?" he asked nervously.

"Well...Yes." Zim groused, still vaguely in a stupor. "It's all the hydraulics and anti-grav pods."

"No-no! I meant the bit about you're mission being a joke!"

"Oooh...that." The alien blinked once, then suddenly began laughing and gesturing wildly. "Pathetic human! Did you really think that such a thing could be true?! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!! It was all a clever, clever ruse to make you think that I, ZIM!, was no threat and that you're pitiful attempts to thwart my _incredible_ plans were all the more useless because my glorious mission is a joke! Oh-ho-ho! The Tallest truly had you going there now, didn't they? Why, even I almost fell for it!"

"OH, SHUT UP!" Did snapped, suddenly overwhelmed by anger. "That wasn't a trick and you know it! I can't believe that for the past year I've been practically living in you underpants to stop you from conquering Earth only to find out it's all been a fucking hoax! Do you have any idea how much time, energy, and money I've spent trying to save this planet from your stupid invasion?! I could've used those resource on hunting down those zombie monkeys or studying to rat-people in the mall! But, noooooooooooo, Zim! You lead me on, thinking that there really was a menace from beyond the stars! I thought that I'd finally have to chance to fight a _REAL_ villain! Something worthy of my skills as a paranormal investigator! Instead, I'm out here chasing a egotistical megalomaniac dumbass!"

Zim, thoroughly immersed in the Sea of Denial, snorted. "See? It's working."

Seconds stretched lazily by as Dib gave the alien a deadpan glare.

"Here." he growled finally, handing over the tape. "I don't know why I even bothered..."

"Ah!" purred the (mock) Invader. "So you are finally admitting defeat at the mighty hands of Zim! A wise move, earth monkey."

"Actually, I feel sorry for you Zim." Dib replied dryly. "It'd be a mockery of scientific investigation to dissect a worthless little moron like you. I just couldn't bear to face myself if I turned you in and proved that there really is no intelligent life in the universe after all. But do you want to know what the saddest part is for me, Zim? Finding out that even your own _species_ doesn't want you. Now, that is truly pathetic." He turned on his heel and walked out of the lab.

_Next afternoon..._

The final skool bell rang, releasing a flood of squealing students out into the streets to frolic and enjoy their weekend. All were merry and full of warm gooey glee, save the two kids trailing behind that mass of personhood.

Of course, for Gaz, being merry was something that happened to other people. But she was feeling rather...satisfied at beating five major bosses on ultra-death-doom mode during the course of that day. If only her brother shared such a feeling.

Dib had spent much of the day feeling strangely disappointed that, for the first time in months, he wasn't going to spend the next two days planning to foil Zim's plans. He had realized that it was going to take some time before he could get use to idea of the little alien not being a threat. Only natural, after all. And he did have other projects waiting for him at home, vital cases of VITAL SIGNIFICANCE that he put on the backburner while he chased that damn jerk around. But even the thought of finally capturing that Bigfoot in his gym class didn't make Dib feel better.

'It's going to be a _loooong_ weekend...' he thought with a sullen sigh as he trudged home alongside his Game Slave addicted sister.

"AH-HA!" cried Zim triumphantly, jumping out at them as they rounded the corner. "There you are, Dib-human!"

"Oh, hi Zim."

"Still reeling for your defeat I see?" cooed the alien with a smug grin.

"Whatever, Zim." Dib continued past him.

"Eh?" He jogged a bit to keep up with them. "Aren't you curious to hear my latest plan for unleashing DOOM upon you're filth planet?"

"Not really, Zim"

"It's simple, really." Continued the alien, ignoring Dib's indifference. "You see, earth monkey, quite a time back I had gotten lost in your..._hideous_ city during a test run on some navigational equipment. During this period, I encounter a thing of such potency that it could render even me, ZIM!, to a state of absolute, organ-grinding _terror._ Yet I realized that, if I could magnify this effect, I'd have a weapon of such ingenious subtlety and awesome power that enslaving you pathetic planet would be a pound of streusel! And, since only you can truly appreciate the magnitude of my _genius, _I have decided that you shall be the first to suffer by my greatest weapon!" He leapt in front of Dib, thrusting the infernal thing up high above his head. "Now, _tremble_, worm-baby, before the **_MADNESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!_**"

Both Dib and Gaz stared up at the chihuahua Zim held aloft.

"Nice puppy, Zim." Dib gave him a deadpan head shake as he walked by the alien and his chihuahua of **_MADNESS_**.

Zim stood there surprised for a moment. Then the chihuahua pee-ed on his wig.

Tossing the dog away in a fit of rage, he turned and charged after his enemy.

"Do you think that was funny, Dib?" He snarled, skidding to a halt before his rival, again. "Just walk past me like I was some silly Earth babbler, eh? It's all part of you're little scheme, isn't Dib? Ignore me and all my plans while you slowly undermine my confidence in my abilities as an Invader, right..._Dib_?" Zim was now leaning in his face, punctuating each word with a poke of his claw to Dib's chest. "I'm not giving up, worm-baby. For I am the INVADER ZIM!" His face darkened with a dangerously quiet madness. "And I will not be **_ignored_**, Dib_._"

"Yah. Whatever, Zim." He brushed off the alien and continued on home.

As he stood watching the young paranormalist walk away, Zim clenched his gloved fists tightly.

"I will not be **_ignored,_** Dib..." he repeated darkly at the human's back.


	2. The Adventures of Buckaroo Dib

Welcome back to second installment of **Invader Scorned**. I'm V and with me to do the author notes today are Murasaki and Chaine. [both wave] Now, instead of further indulging in sadomasochistic necrobestiality with equines--

**Chaine: She means "Flogging a dead horse," kids. **

glare I'm gonna skip the usual round of disclaimers because none of Invader Zim belongs to V. If it were otherwise, I doubt Nick would've let the show be aired...or it get shown on Showtime...

**Murasaki: Ain't you gonna talk about the "Proof-reading Fairies"?!**

No. No I am not. Let's just say that V doesn't have a beta and is too anal-perfectionist to get one, 'kay?

**Murasaki: Aw...but I like fairies. [crazed grin] They taste like magic chicken!**

(o).(0);;

**Chaine: Right... on that note, I'm going. Have fun, monkey-people! [leaves]**

Just one last thingy: The following is V's response to the cult of the "Geek Superhero" plaguing most fandom nowadays. That, and V believes Dib is soo much cooler than Neo. There. I said it! P Now, get reading!

**An Invader Scorned!**

_Chapter 2: The Adventures of Buckaroo Dib Across the **nth** Dimension  
[The Abridged Version]_

To the smelly vapid masses, the life Dib Membrane has lead for the past three years must have seemed like some kind of bizarrely fabulous dream.

After resigning attempts to expose his former arch-enemy Zim, our beloved big-headed boy threw himself headlong into other matters of paranormal phenomena. Such was his fervor that, by his 13th birthday, Dib not only revealed the existence of Bigfoot, Nessie, and that feral band of Mall-Rats, discovered the locations of both Atlantis and Mu, thwarted the schemes of no less than seven global conspiracies, and fought off the Brain-rending Ferrets from Dimension Nny!, but even earned a smidgen of respect from his father.

[A/N: Well, the Professor had stopped publicly denouncing his son's findings as the ravings of a crazed boy-child, so we guess that could be 'respect'. He still shakes his head sadly every time Dib asks to borrow the lab to research his latest findings on "those silly, unscientific things". But this isn't Membrane's story now, is it? So let's go back to Dib.]

The next year proved even better for the trench-coated one as he entered Hi-Skool and began the wondrous journey that is PUBERTY. Much to the envy and awe of his classmates, Dib appeared to be one of those lucky few blessed by the Gods of Adolescence to have only the benefits of growth spurts and secondary sexual changes. Almost over night, he went form a mere stink child to glorious MANHOOD without the intervening periods of awkward ugliness.

Oh, sure, the more jealous amongst his peers claimed that Dib used his exceptional intellect to devise a variety of voice-harmonizers, hormone balancing drugs, experimental skin-care products, and other super-weird science procedures to avoid the miseries of pubescence. Still others argued that it was caused by all the strange radiation and Nny!-rays Dib was exposed to during his frequent multi-dimensional jaunts. And still others claimed it was a gift from the Sea-Lords of Atlantis for leading them to victory against the foul tentacle-demons from _beyond._ And yet even more people say...

But the debate over Dib's blossoming from "that weird kid" into "that Uber-Hot Nerd Guy" doesn't matter. The point is he had made a meteoric leap to the very highest realms of popularity in barely a year. This had the added effect of guaranteeing Dib would never experience of being the first freshman of the year swirlied by Krung Murdock, five-time Junior and voted "Most Brutal Recidivist EVER" by the International Skool-Bully Union. [That honor went to Zim, btw.] He also set a historic precedent by being the only person ever to get invitations to all the _coolest_ Senior/College kegger parties of the year as soon as he stepped through the Hi-Skool doors . By the time homeroom period ended, Dib's mob of admirers and followers had swollen into the thousands. Within a month, there were at least 42 fan-clubs and organizations devoted to solely to him. At the end of the year, some of his more fanatical fans had developed a religion based upon his life called "Dib-anetics".

It was during this time Dib decided, at the tender age of fourteen, to take a break from paranormal investigation and focus upon some of his other interests.

He started out by trying his hand at being a rock-star, putting out the first of three quintuple-platinum albums. While on a brief world-tour to promote "_Dagon-W_ ", Dib penned a rough draft what would be his ground-breaking thesis on how quantum physics could be used to explain and harass the power of the occult for everyday use. Yet he never quite solved the dilemma of what to do with all those Old Ones and other unspeakably eldritch _things_. Perhaps it was fortunate for the universe at large that Dib choose to listen to his father's advice and publish a heavily censored version instead of the complete text...

Next came the inevitable foray into martial-arts, which Dib proved to have amazing skill at. Within a period of ten months, he had become proficient in seven forms of Kung-Fu, Kenjutsu, three kinds of Karate, Tae Kwon Doe, Pentjak Silat, Ninjutsu, Jujutsu, and an ancient style of non-lethal combat developed by the telepathic mystics of Lemuria based on applying pressure to key points on an opponents body to render them incapable of attacking, among other things. He then took his now prodigious knowledge of human anatomy and then applied it, not to the pursuit of combat, but to medicine. Even though his stint in the medical field was a paltry 39 weeks, Dib still managed to earn honorary doctorates in neurosurgery, cardio surgery, psychology, dermatology, forensic pathology, cybernetics, and gynecology.

When he finally returned to the paranormal, Dib once again shocked the world by choosing to become a professional debunker. In what can only be described as one hell of a 180 change of face, everyone's favorite paranormalist geek began ripping apart long-cherished mysteries like that of Blorch!, Pig-foot, Madame Minnie's Mystic Specter Review, and the infamous Chicken-boy. So zealous was his assault upon long-standing mysteries that the Swollen Eye-ball nearly revoked his lifelong membership after an especially virulent outburst against the "psuedo-intellectual crackpots" that sullied the field of paranormal investigation. It wasn't so much _what _he said as the fact that Dib dared to name _names. _They settled instead on having him banned from accessing the web-forum for a month .

But of all the mysterious mysteries in the universe, Dib seemed to have a _special_ loathing for anything involving extraterrestrial.

In fact, one could say that he took sadistic insane glee in disproving each and every piece of evidence presented to prove that there was intelligent life out there in the stars. Crop circles withered and blackened under his venom gaze. U.F.O.'s preferred dissolving into nasty smelling swamp-gas lit by Venus rather than have him see them. . Even Abductors made vast u-turns across the galaxy to avoid facing Dib's mighty wrath. Farmers throughout the land rejoiced for the sharp drop-off in cattle mutilations That may also have been the leading cause for the rapid decline in anal probes.

Yes, it truly looked as if Dib Membrane (M.D.) was leading a life that only seen in gloriously CGI-ed Sci-Fi /action movies. With his androgynous angst, above-genius I.Q., vast array of MAD SKILLZ, and militant skepticism, it appeared that he was a hero born from the combined genes of luminaries such as Ian Malcolm, Buckaroo Bonsai, Mister Neo Anderson, Dexter, and the entire cast of at least thirty animes.

And now, on the cusp of sixteen, Dib looked back on the sum total of all his accomplishments. The Nobel Prizes, the mystical gifts, the Grammies, the various strange relics, the legions of adoring fans, the ever so willing groupies... Even the mountain of hate-mail was proof that Dib had finally achieved the recognition and fame that he had so longed for as a boy. He pondered the sheer mass of success that he had accumulated over the years.

"Damn," he said, finally coming to a conclusion. "My life...Sucks."

Dib collapsed back onto his bed and stared mournfully at the ceiling. "I just can't understand it! All my wildest dreams have come true to an almost obscenely surreal extent. Everything that I could ever have wanted I now have! Fame! Renown! My own two-hour special of _Mysterious Mysteries_! Yet I just can't get over feeling like my life is empty. Worthless. Devoid of meaning. And I'm still talking to myself."

In a rare lapse back into his old paranoia, Dib suddenly wondered if the past three years were just another illusion created by...by...

Turning his head, the young hero stared at his closet door.

Slowly, Dib rose from his bed and walked across the room in a drawn out pan . He reached for the knob as time stretched like a nasty string of cheap berry-banana bubblegum. The scene went through at least 30 different, rapid fire changes in viewing angles when his hand closed about the round metal. Somewhere, an ominous soundtrack kicked in, complete with a choir of evil monk , pulsing drums, and a bass-guitar. In a violent P.O.V. shift, the sound dropped out and Dib wrenched the door open.

There, hidden behind a Fender guitar and several cases of industrial strength hair-gel, was a small filing cabinet. For years it had stood there, rusting and forgotten, waiting hopelessly among the "Happy-Noodle Boy" shirts and surplus trench coats. In its own inanimate way, the cabinet implored Dib with metally puppy eyes.

Did he dare?

Kneeling down, Dib brushed away a ream of dust and deployed a lock-pick from his finger. (He had replace his left arm with a cybernetics after a very embarrassing incident involving a hamster and a wood-chipper.) Corroded from long neglect, the drawer squeaked sullenly as he pulled it open. He took out one of the manila folders brimming with stuff and laid it open on his lap. After all this time...

Amidst the hasty notes and thumbnail sketches, various snapshots of Zim stared up him. There was Zim being wedgied by Tork Smakie, Zim trying to hide his face, Zim glaring, Zim getting hit by water-balloons, Zim laughing and aiming a laser at the camera, Zim eating waffles with his robot-slave, Zim dressed up as a hobo, Zim wearing a wedding-dress...

"Hey Dib!" barked Gaz, marching into his room. "When are you coming out of the closet?"

"WHAT?!!!" He tipped the filing cabinet over as he whirled around, catching a drawer of VENGANCE to the back of the head. Wincing in pain, Dib glared at his (probably) demonic sister.

With unusual mercy, because she was at that tricky level of Tomb 6: The Rending, Gaz ignored him and repeated, "When are you coming out of the closet? Skool starts in about 2 hours."

"Eh?" He looked up at her, righting the cabinet. "But it's only a 10 minute walk away."

"Yah. If you're not fighting off ninjas, mutant zombies, and legions of screaming fan-girls, that is."

Dib sighed, gather up the spilt contents of the Zim folder. "We could use dad's teleporter..."

"NO! We've always walked to Skool together. We walked to Pre-Skool together. We walked to Kinder-Garden together. And we shall continue to walk to Hi-Skool together. Or else..." Gaz loomed menacingly over her brother, backlit by the very flames of Hell.

"Okay! Okay! We'll walk!"

The flames vanished.

"Good." She noticed the picture of Zim in drag right as Dib reached for it, raising an eyebrow enough to make her brother clutch the photo to his chest, but just shrugged and went back to her GameSlave. "I'll...save you some Berry Crispy Bleed-o's."

"Uh...thanks." he muttered to Gaz's retreating back.

Feeling flustered, Dib angrily shoved the photo back into the folder, shoved the folder into the drawer, and re-locked the filing cabinet. He hurried out of the closet, slamming the door behind him, and stormed out of his room.

_Elsewhere..._

In a room deep beneath the Earth crust, a small figure sat before a bank of flickering monitors. Each screen showed a montage of news programs and T.V. specials. There was a special report on an invasion of killer pig-demons, clips from various awards ceremonies, concert footage, music videos, assorted blurbs from the SCIENCE! Channel, medicinal documentaries, and even a bunch of old _Mysterious Mysteries_ episodes. Diverse as their sources may have been, all the clips had one thing in common...

"...and now, once Dr. D. Membrane has removed the cerebral parasite..."

"...live from Kyoto! Dib Membrane and Rob Zombie!..."

"...once again, Dib saves the day."

"...so, tell me, Dib..."

"...Dib... Dib..."

"...**_DIB_**..."

" RA-ARRRRRRRGH!!!!!"

**shink! SMASH! _sizzle-sizzle_**

"Hey!" snapped the computer angrily. "That freaking hurts!"

Growling, Zim drew back his spider-legs and fist. This wasn't the first time he'd smashed out those monitors, nor would it be the last.

Ever since that...that... _filthy _stink-bastard snubbed him, Zim found his life spiraling completely out of control.

In the beginning, the Invader thought he'd finally be able to complete his mission without that stupid human's meddling. Soon, after several failures involving (among other things) extra-dimensional Ferrets, a pack of ravenous chupacabras, Big-feet, the Dwarves of Munich, and a genetically reconstructed plesiosaur, Zim realized that he _needed_ that scum-beast.

So, bending his GENIUS to the task of winning back the Dib-monster, Zim took it upon himself to harass his rival in every way possible. He entered into infernal alliances with groups like the Elves of Amsterdam, the Random Evil Ninjas Union, the Blorch-ites, and (much to G.I.R.'s glee) the Disciples of the Scary Monkey. He hurled hordes of cyborg monsters at the human. He spiked all the beverages and snacks in the Membrane home with a range of Irken poisons. He released the Devil-moose of Borneo upon the city. Hell, he even stooped to learning "Black Magic" and then unleashed gangs of fiendish cephalopods from BEYOND upon the citizens of that hellish underwater city Dib was so fond of. His nether orifices never quite recovered from that...

And still Dib ignored him! THE GREAT ZIM!!!

But, after reviewing all those past fiascoes, the extraordinary Irken Invader had at last discovered a way to capture the unswerving attention of his unwitting and bigheaded enemy.

Leaping down from the viewing chair, Zim strutted through his lab. So _incredible_ was his latest plan that he felt like telling someone about it so they could marvel at his greatness. "G.I.R! MINI-MOOSE! COME HERE AT ONCE!"

In flew his two most loyal minions, G.I.R. riding astride Mini-moose's back like a surfer. That alone wouldn't have been so odd except for the fact that the defective A.I. was dress-up in a sailor fuku and neon pink wig while Mini-moose was covered in some sort glittery foam-cloud.

"Konicha wa, Master!" screamed G.I.R as it hit the floor. "We went to this weird convention-thingy with all these funny looking human-monkeys! They were all talking like this: _"Eego ga dekiru hito wa imasu ka?!" _And there were all this strange creatures there too, like the cat-girls, and that funny sword-monster, and those weird little sailor girls... And then this nice lady gave me lots of tasty snacks! She called Moose and me KAWAII! I LOVES HER!"

"Yes, yes... That's all good..." Zim muttered, not hearing a single thing the demented little robot said. "Now, be AMAZED at your master's _genius_!"

Mini-moose squeaked in joy.

"As you see," he continued as G.I.R. gorged noisily upon Japanese snack-foods. "For years now, our mission on this stench-planet has been impeded by the evil of the DIB-monster. No matter what _brilliant_ plan I come up with, it seems that this Earthen..._filth_ ruins everything. Yet he keeps acting as though I, ZIM!, am a non-existent drone creature! Not only does he shun me at Skool, but he won't even acknowledge that, without ZIM!, he'd be nothing more than a mere slime-maggot! Was it not my ingenious schemes to conquer this dirtball that forced Dib to become a legend amongst his dim-witted species? Was it not Zim's superior knowledge of superior Irken chemistry that caused the human to avoid the pus-filled trails of maturity?! And was it not I who shattered his spine in that freak DEATH-BEE 'accident' so Dib could update his pitiful man-nerves with much more powerful bionics? "

At this point, the Invader had jump upon a work-bench covered in snap-shots and magazines with Dib on them to pose dramatically, shaking his fists skyward.

"Do you hear me, earth-boy?! It was I, ZIM!, who made you what you are today! How dare you, Dib! How dare you continue to mock me with your denials! Fool! I'll show what happens to those who fling the gauntlet of mockery into the face of the Irken Empire!"

"Squeak?"

Grinning madly, Zim looked down at the little flying creation. "Ah, my moose-y friend, don't you understand? Of course you don't! For my GENIUS is just so..._awesome_ that you're little mind would be overwhelmed by the sheer _awesomeness_. My plan is to beat the worm-baby at his own twisted game. With my stupendous Invader conditioning, I shall BECOME the Dib! And once I have integrated his essence into mine, I shall go BEYOND the Dib! You see, after months of painful research into the Dib's career, I have discovered a way to copy every move he's ever made! The very key to surpassing him has been right in front of me all along, Mini-moose! And, in a delicious reek of irony, the Earth-monkeys themselves will help me overthrow their belovedly Tall Dib. For I shall use my vast array of Earth wisdom to destroy him!"

Laughing manically, he strode over to an elevator platform and sunk further down into the bowels of the base, intent upon putting the final touches on his crazed campaign to finish off the Dib.

With their master's laughter still ringing off the walls, G.I.R. looked up from his mountain of empty and brightly colored snack wrappers. "Wanna go get some more of Pocky, moose?"

"Squeak!"

Mini-moose scooped the insane robot up and they jetted back to the convention hall.

_To be continued..._


	3. Enter the Faktrix

Howdy! Just gonna write this chapter and avoid even lamer attempts at wit. Bonus point if you can guess the title of each movie, video-game, and anime I ripped off so far. I also don't mind people doing fan-art of my work... ()() Btw, this is not going to be a very 'funny' chapter. In fact, be prepared for the next few chapters to be a V-style parody of all the ANGST-ridden DAZR stories on lately. Fear the clichés and OCC behavior.

**An Invader Scorned!**

_Chapter 3: "Enter the Fak-trix"_

Fresh from another action-packed walk, the Membranes kids walked through the gleaming automated doors of Hi-Skool into the Lobby.

For some bizarre reason, the architect had decided that the most important concept for a building of higher learning wasn't an efficient use of space or additional security in case of a teenage riot. Ooh no! All that mattered was that the Hi-Skool look "_cool_". _Mega-cool_. And the only way to do that was to use large amounts of glass, chrome, plastic, and concrete in a mad exhibit of post-Modernist arty-ness.

As Dib trudged up one of two open staircases that swept to either side of the massive in-door waterfall, he gloomily noted how even the students seemed to blend into the overall décor of the halls, becoming merely animated pieces of brightly hued furniture. He knew only three people stood out from this general display of hip-kid coolness: Gaz, who had kept her perpetual Goth-gone-demonic look since sixth grade; himself, because Dib couldn't bear life without his beloved trench-coats; and... Zim.

If Gaz and Dib had remained untouched by the fickle hand of fashion, then the strange green "boy" must've been totally oblivious to it's concept.

Not that Dib had paid attention to Zim lately, but anyone would've noticed that after four years on this planet the only visible change was that the alien had grown roughly a foot to the none too impressive height of five feet. Zim still wore that hideous magenta dress-shirt-thing, the boots, the 3-fingered gloves, those stupid contacts, and that painfully fake wig. He walked with the same imperious strut, talked with the same clipped babble, ranted with the same shrieking screams, laughed the same crazed laugh...

"And," Dib thought as he popped open his sleek locker. "He plans the same stupid plans."

He recalled Zim's latest plot for conquest. The little jerk must be ripping off late-night cable again because his "brilliant" idea was to sending out a video that would turn everyone who watched it into SPAM-craving vampires. Of course, the fool hadn't realized that most people had already seen another movie just like that and weren't interested in anything called _The SPAM_. So, except for a few die-hard B-movie addicts, Zim's plans had been foiled yet again by his own incompetence. It still made Dib chuckle.

He didn't really enjoy watching his former enemy fail over and over again anymore. It was more like watching a really bad cartoon. Every time Zim tried to unleash DOOM upon Earth, some zany thing would happen and everything would blow up in his face with dramatic results. Looking back, Dib was amazed that he had ever taken that moron seriously in the first place. He often wondered whether he should gloat in triumphant while rubbing it in Zim's face or feel sorry for the little creep.

Still ruminating on how to reconcile his hollow victory, Dib failed to hear the sudden gasp from the crowd. He didn't notice the murmuring nor the sound of a boots marching toward him. So caught up in his thoughts was Dib that he even missed Gaz's brief expression of surprise when she saw who was looming (well, _trying_ to loom) behind him.

"_Dib_."

He turned slowly, feeling a strange thrill at the sound of that voice. "Oh, hi Z--What the hell?!"

Sneering smugly, Zim stood there poised in an arms-crossed stance of villainy conceit. That would've be normal except for the fact that, not only did he have on a set of clearly alien red/black body-armor over his uniform, but also was _without his disguise_. **_In public_**.

Dib gaped in shock. Four freaking years ago, he'd have been pee-ed himself from joy to have Zim so exposed. With an audience of hundreds to boot! Four years ago, he would've killed for this chance!

Now he could hear the whispered questions and see the strange looks. All he had to do was say "See?! I told you all that he was an ALIEN! Now you have to BELIEVE ME!" and the invader's guts would be spread out over an autopsy table come dinnertime. Of course, it'd contradict all the stuff he'd said over the past year, yet Dib had a funny feeling that nobody'd really care as long as **_he_** said it was true. Call it the "expert paradox." Besides, maybe after he exposed Zim for the otherworldly beast that he was, Dib would be free at last from feeling as if his life was pointless. All he had to do was say that...

"I see my AWESOME power has left you speechless, earth-monkey." Zim gloated, oblivious to the crowd that had gathered. "If you got an ass, I'll kick it!"

On second thought, maybe it'd be better if Dib just fix his angst with some Happy-Pills.

"Just face it. I rock. And roll. All night long. Sweet Suzy. Now we will learn who's the best!" With that, he struck a complicated kung-fu pose. "Take a close look. 'Cause I rule, worm-baby!"

"And just who do you rule? The short, green-skinned people?" came the snaky reply.

Letting out a wild kiai of fury, the Irken sprang forward as he shot out a spider-claw toward Dib. To his surprise, the human deftly hopped up and landed on the claw.

"From here you here you can get an excellent view of my foot." Dib quipped, smacking the alien in the face with a quick kick.

Reeling for a moment, Zim recovered and struck a cocky pose. "Face to foot style, how do you like it?"

Dib sighed. "I'm sure on some planet your style is truly impressive, but you weak link is: This is Earth."

"Oh yeah?" sneered the little jerk. "Then try my crotch to your fist style!"

Zim had barely moved before he winced back after that extremely stupid, not to mention exceedingly _painful_, move.

"You want some advice? Direct for me to you: Quit while you're ahead." Seized by a fit of mad laughter, he turned to the crowd. "Pay no attention to Zim. He's obviously off his meds again...and he's also an idiot."

Zim started gibbering protests as the crowd began to disperse with mutters of "Weirdo" and "Freak". Even Dib had turned away, still giggling in a very disturbed way.

"YOU DARE MOCK ZIM?!" screamed the alien, deploying he all spider legs and knocking over those kids that were too close to him. Suddenly, a nasty grin spread on his face as he hissed loudly. "Just gonna run away again, Dib?! Run away like, just like that cold-hearted bitch of a mother did, eh?"

Dib turned back around, his rictus smile twitching crazily.

"That's right, _Dib_!" Zim hissed, ignoring the warning signs that his enemy was about to go psycho-killer on him. "I know all about you're hideous maternal entity and how she fled from your equally repugnant family unit. And, honestly, if I had meet her at the very moment she discovered that her belly was soon to be swollen with you as hideously big-headed smeet, I'd have given her a coat-hanger and said 'ABORT! ABORT!'!"

Gaz grinned in evil glee. "Ooh...bad idea."

Roaring with **Conan Anger**Ô, the trench-coated one lunge at Zim in a flurry of blows. Though his opponent dodged and parried , Dib manage to land quite a few hits. He made quick work of either tear off or snapping all of Zim's spider leg, soon leaving the invader with no defense against his attacks. Then he began hurling a variety of the most brutal strikes and kicks ever made up in martial-arts. So pissed was Did that he threw a few in there that hadn't even been invented yet!

Under this onslaught, Zim staggered backwards into the railing. He glanced down at the thunderous water rushing mere inches away from him. Bloodied and panting, he silently praised all that was Irken when Dib stepped back, seemingly finished.

But he apparently wasn't satisfied with simply pummeling the alien into a greasy pulp. Dib just needed some room so he could get a running start.

The world went into slo-mo mode as Dib sprang into the air, executing a flawless Flying Jump Kick of HURT right to Zim's face. The sheer power of the HURT flipped the alien menace over the railing in an arch of blood, spit, and other viscous bodily fluids. As Zim's body tumbled through bullet-time toward the lethal pool of watery DOOM, Dib twisted in mid-air. He landed with a dramatic flourish of coat flapping on the floor just in time for a gargantuan surge of H2O PAIN to shoot up behind him.

[A/N: You know, I've always like that word..."gargantuan"... so rarely have an opportunity to use it in a sentence. (__).()]

While Dib dust himself off, Space-Time took a moment to snap back to normal.

For a brief moment, there was a deafening silence. Then...

The crowd, who'd chosen to watch the ass-kicking rather than go to the class which had started 10 minutes ago, went wild with cheers. Somebody screamed "Dib ROCKS!" from amid the applause and smug comments about how stupid Zim had to be to pick a fight with "**_Da' MAN_******" himself.

"Wow." Gaz purred, looking over the railing. "I've never seen spasms like that before..."

Seized by a swift kick of guilt, Dib hurtled over the railing into the pool below without thinking. He quickly regretted it.

Writhing in pure agony, Zim screamed and failed helplessly against watery death's acidic grasp. In its extremely abused state, his body couldn't handle the two fluid feet of torture squared that he'd been plunged into. Gruesome boils erupted all over his skin, seething and steaming as Zim began...well, melting. Finally, the **_pain_** overcame our favorite Irken and he collapsed.

Only then did Dib rushed to his side. Gingerly, he scooped the unconscious body and carried it out of the pool. With strange tenderness, Dib laid Zim out on the Lobby floor.

"What have I done?" He stammered aloud, staring down at the motionless figure. Tears were burning in his eyes. "Oh god... What have I done?"

"Sibling Number One?" muttered Gaz, all at once appearing beside her brother to gain him in staring at Zim.

"Yeah?"

"This tiny shot of dorkhood ain't dead."

Snapping out his ANGST, Dib blinked at her. "How do you know that?! I mean, it's not like you're the _doctor _in this fam--"

His rant was cut-short by an abrupt spurt of Irken spit to the face.

"hmmm...He's a spitter."

"Oh-my-god..." Nauseated, Dib wiped at the gooey glob on his face. He only succeed in spreading it all over his cheek and fingers.

Gaz looked at him expectantly. "Well?"

"'Well' what?" snapped Dib, trying to flick away the Irken..._stuff_.

She gestured at Zim, who had by now cease smoldering but was still unconscious. "Aren't you going to doing anything with that?"

"Uh, no."

In the background, squirrels chattered.

"Fine then."

Pocketing her GameSlave, Gaz easily hoisted Zim's body over her shoulder and started to trudge outside. She had gone about a block before Dib finally caught up to her.

"What...pant...are you doing?!" he gasped, jogging alongside his sister.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm taking Zim home."

Dib stared at Gaz like she'd sprouted spines again. "You taking Zim to OUR HOUSE?!"

"No stupid." she hissed. "I'm taking him back to his OWN house."

"Are you insane?!" Dib barked as they rounded the next corner. "You don't know what kind of diabolical deathtraps Zim's got hooked up there! I mean, he must've have upgraded his gnome-field at least. If I remember right, there's also several robotic minions in there too, as well as the computerized security systems, the laser weasels, the..."

While Dib babbled along, they walked right through the dread gnome-field and Gaz angrily yanked open the front door.

"Welcome home, son!" droned the Robo-parents.

Growling, Gaz pushed past them. She didn't even notice GIR and Mini-moose setting on the couch staring at her and Dib, the floppity cartoons momentarily forgotten.

"You want some candy?" asked the little robot in an extremely creepy voice.

Both humans stared at GIR in utter terror. Suddenly, the robot lunged.

"HIYA!" It screamed, latching onto Dib's face. "Why is your head still sooo _biiiiiiig_?!"

As Dib failed about in a vain attempt to dislodge the hyperactive robot, Mini-moose hovered up to Gaz. It seemed to glance at the bundle that was Zim

"Squeak?"

"What happened?" Gaz repeated, feeling repulsed by the very cuteness of the moose. "Zim was being a moron again and picked a fight with Dib."

"Squeak?"

"Yah. He tried those stupid moves."

"Squeak?"

"Well, he did call our mom a 'cold-hearted bitch.' Zim was right about that, since Mom happens to be the most bloodthirsty of all the witch-queens, but my stupid brother still hasn't quite gotten over his Oedipal complex..." She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, Dib went ape-shit and opened up a major can of whoop-ass on your master. It was like watching a live-action version of '_Immoral Wombat_' only with a crappier soundtrack and even lamer special effects."

"Ooh! I like that game." GIR cooed, still clinging happily to Dib.

"I bet you do." She turned back to Mini-moose. "Look, do you guys have a first-aid kit or sick-bay? I'm sick of lugging this dumbass."

"Squeak!" Darting over to the couch, Mini-moose activated the code to raise it and uncover a large tube underneath. It darted down first, followed by Gaz (still carrying Zim), and Dib (still being cling to by GIR).When they landed at the bottom, Gaz somehow managed to stay perfectly on her feet while her brother went sliding across the sickbay floor.

"Yah! Let's do it again!" cheered GIR, now hanging off Dib's scythe-cowlick.

"Maybe later." grumbled the paranormalist, sitting up.

Gaz went over to one of the larger tables and unceremoniously dump Zim on it. "Okay, now what?"

"Squeak."

Gaz's eyes widened in shock at the moose's suggestion. She look at Zim's mangled body as it twitched slightly, then to the moose, and then back to Zim.

Going into anger mode, she stomped over to Dib and dragged him over to the table by his hair. "You. Take off Zim's clothes."

"WHAT?!" Dib nearly scalped himself as he jerked away from the table.

"The moose-thing says that in order for the computer to examine him, Zim has to be naked." She fixed Dib with a hellish glare. "And I don't want to even imagine _what_ he has under that outfit."

"Then why don't you make one of his drones do it?" snapped Dib, thrusting GIR toward her.

The defective AI offered her a rubber piggy. "I love you, scary lady."

She scowled in disgust but GIR just kept on smiling.

"Come on, Dib." Gaz wheedled. "You know you want too..."

He almost snapped a nasty come back at her, but Gaz's expression told Dib that, if he cherished his organs, it be wise to shut up and do it. That didn't really stop him from giving his devil sister one last pleading look as he moved closer to the table.

"Get on with it!" she snarled.

Whimpering in defeat, he sat GIR down on the floor and bent over Zim. Carefully, he reached over Zim and undid the latches on his now cracked armor and pulled off his shirt-dress. Setting them aside, he looked down at the prone alien. Now Dib could easily see the extent of the damage that he had inflicted upon the alien. The pounding had virtually turned into Zim one massive bruise of purple-green high-lighted by a few congealing scabs and a thin line of slimy drool.

Assailed by fresh waves of guilt, Dib tentatively put his hands against Zim's waist just above the band of his surprisingly tight pants. He marveled at the odd silky-spongy way that green flesh yielded under his fingers.

"You know," he murmured aloud. "After all this time, I finally have Zim right where I want him. Helpless on an examining room table. Not that I wanted him to be all beat up like this, but it still oddly satisfying seeing him like this..." Unconsciously, Dib stroked a hand up the alien's flank as he leaned in even closer. "Think of all the things I could do to him while he's knocked-out. I may never get another chance like this again. All I need is a scalpel, a camera, film, a note pad and pen..." He was so close to Zim that his lips where trembling against the alien's neck. "I could finally get answers to all those questions I've wondered about. Like just what is a squiddly splooch? Or how does that weird PAK-thing work? Or maybe even if Zim actually is a..."

"SPA-LOOCH!"

Gaz laughed as Dib straightened and wiped at the fresh gob of spit on his face.

"Squeak."

"Okay, okay!" She brushed Mini-moose away. "The moose says Zim's naked enough now, so you can stop molesting him now."

Dib's pale face turned several unique shades of red. "I wasn't molesting him! I was _examining_ him. You know...checking for broken bones and stuff..."

"Sure you were. Anyway, the only thing left to is put Zim in one of the rejuvenation chambers." Gaz gestured toward the bank of high-tech looking coffin pods. "And close the lid. The automated medical program will do the rest."

"Fine." Still fuming about his sister earlier comment, Dib lifted the alien off the table and laid him out in the chamber. Taking his sweet time with strapping the face mask onto Zim (and sneaking in a few more "exploratory" gropes...) , he shut the lid and the chamber filled with a viscous orange gel. Fascinated, Dib watched as various tubes and doo-dads snaked out to attach themselves to Zim's body.

Gaz hurled the rubber piggy at Dib, hitting him square in his big-head. "Can we go home now?"

"Sure, sure..." He followed her to the door way leading out of the sickbay, pausing for one last look at Zim.

For some strange reason, Dib felt that he was going to live to regret pulling Zim out of the water today...


	4. The Lonesome Plot of Dexter Spooky

V no own "Invader Zim" and rips-off many things for ideas. Try to guess what was ripped. Hint: I really, really like Quentin Tarintino... And thanks to all who reviewed so far. You make me feel **_loved_**! Sadly, there won't be much explaining in this chapter as I plan to unleash _even _more secondary characters upon this fic! Plus, this is going to be the longest chapter so far. And the most unfunny, too.

**An Invader Scorned!**

_Chapter 4: "The Lonesome Plot of Dexter Spooky"_

"Oh! Long Wang!" gasped the sickeningly cute girl in pig-tails. "I was sooooo scared that you'd never make it back! Now that you have trained with the Great Priest Miso Horni, I'm sure you're High-Flying Foot of the Crippled Woodchuck is much stronger! But is it enough to defeat Evil Lord Kill-Dem-Ded and his Evil Slap of the Rabid Pants Badger-Twenty-Poke-Exploding-Nostril Death-blow?!"

The very average looking Wang smiled. "Don't worry, Noh Chi-chis! As long as I have the purity and passion of your immense **_LOVE_**, I know I can defeat Kill-Dem-Ded! For..."

Suddenly, the screen went black and then there was a loud buzzing.

"Awah man..." Skoodge frowned, hopping out of his seat as the lights came up in the strange, underground theatre. "And it was just getting to the good part, too!"

With a lazy yawn, he walked out into the lab proper and wondered if he should grab some more snacks before giving Zim the latest status report. Three years spent researching all those Earthenoid documentaries like "Poke of DOOM!" and "The Vile Curse of Mai Pei" sure had left Skoodge with a taste for soda, candies, and that salty poofed food called 'pop-corn.' He'd also developed a strange fascination with the bizarrely violent fight simulators and other so-called "video-games" these human-beast indulged in with such a passion.

It was a bit strange, though, that his superior hadn't called him yet. Maybe Zim was ready to engage in another round of _Nubbin's of Death_ 5 instead of demanding more data on Earth combat. Skoodge smiled hopefully and walked around the lab.

Soon, it became apparent that there was no-one there.

Skoodge scratched his butt thoughtfully. "Computer?"

"Eh, yes?" came the oddly hesitant reply.

"Where's Zim? I can't seem to find him and I've got some fresh data for him."

"Eh...well..." Some how, the computer managed an awkward little dither noise. "Zim's not available right now..."

"Then where's GIR and the Mini-moose? Surely they had to have..."

"Nope. They went out to scour the city for more 'P-O-C-K-Y' snacks..." The computer paused then added, "And tacos. Lots, and lots of tacos..."

"Huh?" The chubby Irken gaped, half-way through chewing a Choco-Boogie-bar. "But who called me up here?"

"...I did..." The computer muttered, in so far as it was possible for a computer to mutter. "There's...there's something you need to see in the sickbay... Something _awful._"

"The sickbay?! Why there? Is Zim hurt?!"

"Eh...well, you'll just have to go down and see... It's just awful, Skoodge. Just _awful_."

A little frightened by the horrified tone in the computer's voice, Skoodge rushed quickly to an elevator and made his way to the sickbay. He hesitated a moment before stepping into the frigidly spartan room. Aside from a tattered uniform and some damaged body-armor, everything looked pretty normal.

Again, Skoodge turned to the computer console in pouty confusion. "Well?"

"Look in Rejuvenation Pod no. 42..."

Dutifully, the squat Invader went over to pod no.42 and, straining up on his go-go booted toes, peered into the viewing window.

Zim floated peacefully in the glowing orange gel, fully healed and oblivious to the outside world in his merry, pain-killer/tranquiller induced dreams.

"This?" asked Skoodge in disbelief. "This is what's so _awful_?"

The computer, in a surprisingly non-computery way, began giggling. "No-no... Not Zim, fat-sack! Look at the _read-outs_! The _read-outs_!"

Wondering if he should order the computer to perform a reboot, Skoodge glanced over at the winking screen of Irken characters. He blinked, rubbed his eyes stupidly, then looked harder at the screen.

"Computer..."

"Hehe...yes?"

"This...this is a fluke, right?" Skoodge's antenna twitched nervously while his voice raised in horror. "There must've been some kind of contaminate threw the scanner off, **_right_**?"

"Ooh, I'd say not..." giggled the now manically computer voice. "Even if there was foreign bio-matter in the pod or upon Zim's body, the gel would have dissolved it by now. This... (snick)...this looks more _intentional_..."

Skoodge backed away from the pod as if it was going to explode if he moved to fast. For several moments, all he could manage was a incoherent gibber of "Nagh-nah-nagh-nah!"

"See?" the computer tittered. "I told you it was _awful_."

"Computer!" shrieked the pudgy Irken finally. "Get me...get me the closest Invader on the com-link! Now!"

"Oh-key-dokey!" Still chuckling in a crazed way, the computer sent out a call to the nearest Irken it could think of...

_Elsewhere on Earth..._

In a burned out crater on some god-forsaken island deep, deep in some uncharted region of the Pacific Ocean, an ungodly squeak of wrath and pain rented the morning air. At the very bottom of the crater, strapped firmly in place by various metal bands and tubes, lay the colossally adorable bulk of what had once been Ultra-Peepi! Now he writhed underneath the constant poking and prodding of gleaming robot arms as they attached even more bionic parts to the badly damage hamster monster.

"Yes...yes..." sneered a feminine and vaguely British voice from the shadowed catwalk. "That's it! Rage all you want, hamster-beast! Soon it shall give you the strength to rampage across this filthy planet! When I'm finished with you, you'll no longer be a mere monster! You shall become ULTRA-MEGA-PEEPI!! Gnawer of Worlds! And I shall be your MASTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Head tossed dramatically back in a laugh of villainy, Tak shook her mighty cyborg fist at the sky. Like her accursed rival, _Zim_, she too had gain some height since first landing upon Earth. But 4'9" was still too short in her eyes, so Tak had taken to wearing ridiculously high stiletto-heeled boots to boost herself to a height of 5'11".

After being defeated by _Zim_ and that...horrid human-monster, Tak spent a few years wondering space in order to gather up the necessary components to complete her plans to destroy not only Earth, but _Zim _as well. It had been sheer luck that, on her return to this dirtball planet, she had found the wounded hulk of Ultra-Peepi curled up asleep on this wretched island. When fortune smiled upon something as violent and ugly as revenge, it seemed proof like no other that, not only do the gods exist, but that Tak was doing their will.

In a physics-defying way, she had managed to keep from snagging them in the grating of the catwalk as she gazed down at her the key to her latest bid for Invader-hood. Pure malicious glee glinted in her one remaining eye.

Her evil musing was interrupted by a tinny rendition of _"Tubular Bells_" from her com-link.

"My Tallests?" she answered.

"Wrong Irkens, you hateful bitch." snapped the computer in Zim's base.

"_Zim..._" Tak hissed the name. "What do you want?"

"Actually, it's me." Skoodge meeped. He'd met Tak once before, briefly, on Dirt while trying to get directions to Lavatory-7 after drinking too many sodas on his trip to Blorch. Visions of what tortures could be inflicted on a living body using a bucket, a shaken soda, and some duct-tape still haunted his nightmares...

"Skoodge." She sneered, sounding slight less disgusted. "What do you want? I'm rather busy here."

"Uh...well, this is kind of important, Tak sir." He paused, not sure of how to phrase his next sentence. "You see, according to Mini-moose's report, Zim was assaulted by the Dib-human about a month ago and...eh, has been in the rejuvenation pod since..."

"Awah, poor Zim. Boo-ho." Tak laughed nastily, making a gesture like she was playing the Universe's Smallest Violin. "Why should I give a flying Blorch rat-person's ass about Zim getting beat-up on by that human stink?! It just saves me the trouble."

"Oh, it's not that! It's...it's bad..." Cringing, Skoodge turned away from the screen. "Whatever else Dib did, it's _awful_ Tak. Just _awful_..."

"Really?" Now Tak's interest was peeked. "And just what did the Dib do, exactly?"

The chubby Invader shuddered, holding back an urge to spew. "You...you'll just have to see it for yourself, Tak. It's that...that _awful_..."

Growling, she crossed her arms. "Fine! I'll be there in a moment."

With that the com-link snapped off.

_One massive jolt of hamster sedatives and a quick teleport later..._

"Alright, lard-bucket." Tak snarled, pulling off a very menacing stomp in heels that should have reasonably snapped by now. "Where's Zim?"

Cowed by her rage, Skoodge meekly pointed toward Pod no. 42. "He's in that one, but that isn't what you need to see..." He paused, unsure now whether it was a good idea to have called Tak. The Invader swallowed dryly and continued anyway. "Look at the read-outs on his condition..."

Shooting him her best 'This better be serious or I'll rip out your organs' glare, Tak marched over to the read-out panel and read the blipping Irken script. She blinked, rubbed her eye stupidly, then looked harder at the screen.

"Computer..."

"Look, you scrawny ho, it's not a fluke!" huffed the computer. "And I'm perfectly functional, thank-you-very-fudging-much!"

Tak ground her teeth a the insult. "We'll just see about that..."

With a professional distain, she reached into her pak and withdrew a heavily modified Irken lap-top she'd made during her stint in the janitorial squad. Hooking it up, Tak rapidly hacked into the diagnostic unit of Pod no. 42 and soon had a second, surely more accurate opinion. Smugly, she read the read-out.

"What the..."

If it could, the computer would've stuck out it's tongue at her. "See? Told you so!"

"SKOODGE!" She snapped, turning to her fat companion. "Do you realize how _awful_ this is?!"

He nodded, then, because he felt it be better for him to _say_ something, croaked, "Simply _awful_."

"This is more than _awful_, you fat-headed fool!" Tak screamed. "This is an offense against the very essence of our race! Surely even that...that filthy monster could understand the sheer FOULNESS inherent in this! Yet he still dared to fling the Poop of BLASPHEMY into the face of all that is pure and Irken! I will not...No, I cannot just stand by and allow the human to wallow in the EFFLUENCE of his crimes! To let him exist and not suffer for his crimes would be an affront to every Irken ever smeeted and those yet smeeted!"

"But what are you gonna do, sir?" Skoodge asked, awed and frightened by Tak's sudden outrage.

"What am I going to do?" She chuckled suddenly. "Ooh-ho, my tubby 'friend'! It's what _we_ are going to do..."

As her looming shadow fell across him, Skoodge cowered back into the corner.

"The Dib must suffer to his last breath."

_At Mysterious Mysteries studio, later that day..._

Seated on the stage, the Mysterious Mysteries anchor and Dib watch a monitor of various clips sent in to the show. But what's really interesting about them all is the fact that each clip and image is of Zim, carefully collaged together and ending in the more recent recording of the incident at Hi-Skool taken from surveillance cameras.

Dib's eyebrow twitched slightly and his lips had a funny wobbly look to them as he watched the ass-kicking of Zim be replayed on the screen.

"So, Dib," The anchor asked when the scene ended in a still shot. "Would you care to explain who, or should I say, _what_ is this Zim?"

The anchor smiled evilly. He'd spent hours combing through the massive backlog of the Dib Archives to find enough evidence to fling up in the over-confident boy's face. Finally, after all these years, the anchor could smell the sweet smell of vengeance as he gleefully trapped Dib with his own over-zealous research on the "alien" called Zim!

"There's quite a simple explanation for Zim's behavior, [BLEEP!]." answered Dib coolly. He had smelt a trap the minute they'd call him in to do a "special feature" on the "Hi-Skool Incident" and had already formulated an answer that would surely save is large-skulled bacon. "You see, this unfortunate young man is suffering from an ultra-rare disorder which not only causes the loss of ears and nose, green-skin, and red buy-eyes, but also retards the victims ability to control his behavior."

"But he has _antenna_, Dib. Antenna. Like a bug."

"Cancerous tumors."

The anchor glared at him. "Tumors don't _wiggle_..."

Dib met his glare. "Obviously, to the untrained eye, they appear to 'wiggle', but that's merely a distortion of light caused by the unique skin pigmentation of Zim's body. Or, in _layman's terms_, it's an optical illusion."

The anchor cursed under his breath, realizing that once again he'd been denied sweet, sweet revenge. "Well then, I suppose you have proof of this 'skin condition' that Zim has, eh Dib?"

"Of course I do..." Reaching into his coat, Dib withdrew a small remote control and, aiming it at the monitor, click the single red button. With a zapping sound, the still image of Zim laying battered and undisguised in the water vanished to be replaced by an incredibly complex series of charts and diagrams. "After many, many hours spent pouring over countless medical cases, I have discovered that Zim must be suffering from..."

His speech was interrupted by a sudden, tinny ringtone of the X-files theme

"Would you excuse me? This might be important." he muttered, bolting out to the hallway.

"Grrr...." The anchor glowered after Dib. "I'll get that son-of-a-bitch one of these days!"

"Eh, sir... We're still on the air..."

"Oh...shit."

Meanwhile, Dib flicked open his super hi-tech cell phone/pager/palm-pilot/laser pistol/wristwatch. "Hello?"

"Hello, _Dib_..." hissed the red-eyed silhouette.

"Zim?!" He smiled dumbly. "Oh man, I never thought I'd be glad to hear from you! How you..."

"Silence monkey!" Zim snarled, glaring even more evilly than usual. "I care not for your mocking! Now listen carefully, you rotten meat-bastard. You have humiliated me for the last time! I challenge you to single combat, unarmed and to the very death. Just you and me, _Dib_. You and me. And to make sure that we are complete undisturbed, I want you to met me at Really Deep Gulch in Conveniently-Remote Desert State-park in one hour."

"And if I don't show, what are you going to do?"

Zim chuckled. "Oh, you'll show up. You've never back down from one of my challenges before. _Not ever_." With that, the image winked back to the stylized Swollen-eyeball emblem.

_One hour later..._

In the cold light of a bloated moon, shadows twisted and writhed as weak silvered glow oozed it's way through the depths of Really Deep Gulch. Dib crept carefully down the gulch walls, effortlessly keeping out of sight with ninja stealth. He knew that Zim must've set a trap or be laying in wait for him at the bottom, but there was something else that bothered the young paranormalist even more than Irken wrath. It was the nagging sense that Zim wasn't acting like...well, _Zim-_like .

Sure, wanting to carve payback out of Dib's hide _was_ something Zim would want to do. But why the phone call first? Why not just burst into the studio and attack? And why did the alien wait a month before deciding to come after Dib? Surely it hadn't taken that long for him to heal, had it?

'Of course not! It wasn't like you beat the holy crappola out of him...' jeered a voice in his head. 'Oh, wait. You did.'

A nasty knot was forming in Dib's stomach. He'd never meant to do that to Zim, really. It was just that...well, the jerk brought it all on himself! Zim had no right say that his mother. The little freak also had no right to keep pestering him all the time, stalking him around the halls during skool, hovering over his shoulder during lunch...following him as he walked home with Gaz... sitting on the branch right outside his window at night... invading his thoughts at the oddest of times...making him feel absolute rotten for ignoring Zim all these years... causing all those messed-up dreams that left Dib shaken and sticky when he'd awaken... driving him mad...

"Focus, Dib! Focus!" he grumbled, shaking his head to clear away those thoughts. "Zim's out there somewhere waiting to _kill_ you. And you're bitching about him being in your stupid wet-dreams?! Get your priorities straight, Dib! I've gotta keep alert, on my toes, or else he's going to get the drop on me! And, while I'm at it, I've gotta quit talking out loud to myself..."

Shutting up, he glanced warily around the edge of the rocks. To his amazement, Zim was standing barely 20 yards away with his back to Dib. For a moment, he was afraid his little crazy rant had been heard, but the alien remained motionless. It was perfect.

Too perfect.

Dib could still recall the last time he and Zim faced off, as 'children' using water-balloons. That time, Zim had done something uncharacteristically clever and used a hologram to distract Dib as he readied his own weapon from space. Dib had never quite got over that mortifying experience...

But Zim wasn't stupid enough to think the same trick would work twice? Right?

Slowly, Dib reached down and picked up a small stone. Taking care not to reveal his position, he tossed the stone to the right of Zim.

The alien jerked his head toward the source of the noise, and that was all the proof Dib needed.

With uncanny speed, he bum-rushed Zim, only to discover that, not only was it a hologram, but a localized electro-shock field as well.

The surge of power-packed pain sent Dib flying backwards and he landed with a sickening 'thud!' on the dusty ground. While he sputtered and coughed, a tall and ominous figure stepped out from the shadows. A pair of gravity-defying stiletto-heeled boots ground his shattered glasses into the dirt.

"Well, well... that settled you down some, didn't it?" scoffed Tak as she leaned over him. "No one could be a heroic badass after getting hit by 5,000 volts of electricity. Not having ever been shocked by that much electricity, I cannot begin to imagine just how much that must sting...and I truly don't want too, either."

Dib angrily hocked a gob of spit in her face.

Wincing back from the painful burning, Tak whip the spittle away with a hanky then snort and hocked an even larger blob of Irken slime in Dib's face. "I win."

Tossing the hanky away, she straightened up and kicked Dib over. Still paralyzed from the shock field, he couldn't move away as Tak took hold of his cyber-arm and, with a fierce yank, tore it out of the shoulder mount.

"You won't be needing this anymore..." She sneered, hefting the arm like a club. "Night-night, Dib!" With that, she brought the arm down over his head and sent the human off into the black arms of unconsciousness.

Painfully, Dib came back around. The back of his skull throbbed horribly and he could feel the pulsating agony where his left arm used to be attached to his body. He also was aware that, not only had someone put him in a strait-jacket but they'd tossed him into the back of a trunk and where now speeding down a very bumpy road.

Abruptly, the car skipped to a jarring halt and Dib could hear a door slam as the driver got out. Grassy gravel crunched under the driver's feet as she walked around to the trunk and pulled it open. A cruelly beautiful, violent-haired woman with an eye patch and wearing a sexed up suit stared down at him.

"Wakey-wakey. Eggs and baccy!" Tak cooed, grinning madly at the human before she roughly pulled him out of the trunk and onto the unyielding ground.

Dib nearly retched from the absolutely vile smell of rotten meat, dirt, and flowers that filled the gloomy air.

"Okay, I'm done!" squealed a little voice as something large and heavy thumped roughly in front of Dib's feet. "Now get me out of this hole! _Please_!"

"You can use your spider-legs, fat ass!" snapped Tak, still standing over Dib.

There was a brief metal clink, then another Irken, shorter, fatter, and much, much dirtier than Tak popped into Dib's view. He was badly disguised as a Mexican, complete with massive sombrero and grubby magenta poncho.

"Oh man! Look in his eyes! " Skoodge whispered, staring down at Dib. "This monkey's pissed."

"Good." Tak leaned down a bit, still smiling like a crazy woman. "Tell me, _Dib_: Do you recall what you did to that little waste of flesh Zim about...oh, a month ago?" She paused so he could answer, but all Dib did was glare.

"Well," she continued causally. "I'm sure you do. But I just wanted to let you know that, as much as despise the little shit, Zim's still an Irken, as am I. And what you've done to him is an sin against the entirety of our species... The act you committed is so _vile_ that executing you would be too mild a punishment... So that leaves me in a dilemma: Just how am I to mete out the righteous justice that you so foolishly brought down upon your oversized head? And then Skoodge here told me about this unique little ritual he saw in one of your Westerns. Oh, it's simply fascinating to hear the cruelties your kind inflicts upon each other...

"Now, pay attention, because this part concerns you... Have you ever heard of a Texas Funereal? Well, to simplify it, a Texas Funereal starts when you dig up an old grave in some forsaken graveyard out in the middle of nowhere, remove the old dead guy, and bring along a nice, new empty coffin...and your victim, of course. Once you've got all that ready, you stick your victim in the new coffin, nail the lid down, drop them into the hole, put the dead guy on top of them, and fill the grave back up." She chuckled and leered dementedly at Dib. "To put it even more simply, we're going to bury you alive!" Tak stood back up and turned to her companion. "Skoodge, grab the feet. I'll take the head."

With that, they hoisted the struggling boy up and dumped him rudely into an bare pine-box style coffin. As Tak lowered the lid, she glared hatefully at Dib.

"This is for ruining Zim's honor."


	5. FARTS! The Doofus Horror

{_Re-upload due to technical difficulties_.}

Whoa! looks at reviews I didn't expect this much of a reaction...

**Chaine:** That's what you get for throwing random plot-twists in a cliffhanger, V.

Well, excuse me for being addicted to _Kill Bill_ and Lovecraft... It's just how the chapter came to me.

**Murasaki:** And I help!

**Chaine:** If you violate your author principles by doing what I think you're going to do... flicks out claws

Calm down! I won't...yet.

**Chaine: **But just what did Dib DO that was so...well, _awful_****

Oh, I think you're just going to have to wait like everyone else, my muse of Coherence & Rational Plot. ...ha!

**An Invader Scorned!**

_Chapter 5: FARTS! The Doofus Horror_

The stands of the Grand Imperial Dissection Theatre on Irk were jam-packed with Irkens, from the coveted front-row seats of the elite behind squirt proof poly-glass to the lowly table-drones cramped waaaaaaaaaay up in the rafters. A rainbow of green, purple, read, and blue bug-eyes all stared eagerly down at the maddeningly vague shape hidden under a tarp that was laid out on the operating table dead-center. Even the All-mighty Tallests themselves were on the edge of their seats in the Royal box, impatient to find out what the frightfully suggestive thing was. The only distinguishing feature it had was a bizarre tuft of black hair arching out from underneath the tarp's edge like a scythe-bladey-thing...

In a burst of fanfare, a lone figure strode confidently into the operating room. Cheers went up as the crowd beheld his tall and _awesome_ presence standing before the table. In the glaring spotlight, his eyes glinted an even more brilliant red and his many medals of honor gleamed like miniature suns upon his proud Irken chest. Yes, it truly seemed that the Mighty Zim, elitist of the elite Irken Invaders, had at last achieved the acclaim he so rightly deserved.

"My fellow Irkens," he began when the cheers died down. "I brings me great pride to be here today, standing before you all in the warm warmth of Victory. When the Tallests sent me to Earth, I was sure that my MIGHTY Irken might alone would assure my conquest of the filthy populace! Surely, the astounding POWER of my superior Invader training would be more than enough to eliminate any and all opposition that faced me, Zim! None of the dirty monsters even lift a hand to resist my attack! NONE! Save one. One amongst the smelly bulk of human-stink dared to defy Zim! Only _one_ being spawned from the steaming masses of Earthenoid dookie had to nerve to raise up from his _germy _origins and become a threat to me! ZIM! Oh, many were our battles and he was a mighty opponent indeed. This one human had nearly equaled me in all my Irken prowess!"

He paused with a wistfully sigh. "It was almost a shame I had to destroy that human, for he was nearly my equal in every way. Almost. But even one such as he could never withstand the wrath of Zim! Now, I am pleased to present you all the most formidable soldiers in the UNIVERSE--"

Grabbing the tarp, Zim yanked it off the table to reveal the exquisitely broken body of...

{SLURP!-foosh-THUMP!}

With a growl, Zim slowly got up from the cold sickbay floor which his head had suddenly decided to become better aquatint with. He would've glared wrathfully about the room but something had latched itself to his face mere seconds after he stood up.

"MASTER!!!!!!!!!" wailed G.I.R., his cyan eyes filled with tears. "It's bad! It's soooo bad, Master! You gotta do something about the _Bad Lady_! She's wrecking the house and throwing away all our stuff...like my piggies, those pictures of Dib... yelling at everybody...kicking Mini-moose... beating up on that fat taco-guy... Oh Master! She vaporized my _tacos_! My poor tacos, Master! WHY?!!!!"

Dropping to the floor, G.I.R.'s rapid-fire gibbering dissolved into a tantrum of sobs and floor-pounding as he wept for his poor, poor tacos.

"Eh? What craziness are you babbling now?" sneered Zim, tugging off his gel-soaked pants and grabbing a fresh uniform from the storage container. But the mental machine was too far gone in his mourning to even notice the question, so Zim marched past it and took the elevator up to the lab. Surely, the computer might...

"GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU VINDICTIVE PSYCHO-BITCH!"

"How dare you!" screamed Tak, nimbly avoiding the computer's defensive laser-blasts. "I am your MASTER now! You will obey ME, you obsolete piece of..."

"Holy humping monkeys! What is this MADNESS?!"

Tak whirled around, staring at her rival in shock. Behind her, Mini-moose squeaked feebly from where it was lodged in the wall over Skoodge's twitching body. The lab was practically a war-zone of frayed wires, smashed monitors, scorch marks, and even a few bloody stains from where she had been rampaging.

"Zim?! You're...you're awake!"

"Of course I'm awake! Why shouldn't I be?" he groused, looking around at his ruined lab then turned a glare of sheer Zim fury on her. "I demand to know what in the name of the All-mighty Tallests' has been going on! What are you doing in _my lab_? How did Skoodge get wounded? And why is the computer launching a full out attack?"

"Because Tak's trying to take over the base, you moron!" snarled the computer, smacking it's non-existent forehead against the metaphoric wall in frustration. "Then she was gonna kill you, because-"

Seizing the opportunity, Tak quickly charged the console and shut off the computer's loudspeaker before it could say more. Then she turned to Zim, flashing a winning smile.

"What?" Zim asked warily, impervious to her feminine charms.

"I can explain everything, Zim. Here, have a seat." Hastily, she lead him over to the two chairs that had escaped the mayhem. With a strained look of concerned, Tak help him into the most comfortable chair. "Comfy? Want a foot-rest? Or perhaps a drink?"

Zim blinked at the sudden displays of kindness. "I'm fine..."

"Good-good! If you feel...eh, _unwell_, you just let me know and I'll take care of it."

"Tak, what are you babbling on about? I'm perfectly well!"

"Of course you are..." she cooed, patting his hand.

"What is going on?" Zim repeated, noting a margarine stirring to life in the depths of his But let me just say that your Dib problems are all over. He's no longer a threat to you...or any other Irken..."

"Dib?! What his large head got to do with all this? And why would he no longer be a threat to me?"

"'Cause Dib's dead, baby." Tak pulled the cyborg arm out of her pak and laid it one Zim's lap.

He stared at the grinning femme fatale as if she had brain-worms. Then he looked down at the arm. His face was absolutely expressionless as a terrifying silence fell over the room.

"I was going to toss that in the garbage," said Tak, feeling vaguely nervous now. "But I figured that you'd like to keep it. You know? As a souvenir."

"How'd he die?" Zim asked, voice strangled and very quiet.

"Pardon?"

"How did Dib die?"

The grin broadened into a hellish leer. "Oh, you should've seen it! It was a true stroke of genius, Zim! Genius! Even you would've been proud of its ingeniousness!" Tak leaned back into her chair, basking in her evil. "First, I sent the human a fake call from you to lure him out into a remote gulch where I had set a very, very special trap for him using a scavenged hologram projector and a refurbished gasoline generator. Once he was incapacitated, I tore that-" Tak gestured to the arm. "-off and knocked him out before placing restraints on his meat-flesh so he wouldn't escape from the vehicle storage space while I was driving. Then I performed the ultimate coup d'état by tossing his filthy carcass into a grave and leaving him to suffer a slow, suffocating death! Pretty cool, huh?"

Zim just stared at her.

"I'm sure that you must be feeling one of two 'R's right now: Regret or Relief." Tak crossed her arms. "So, which is it? Relief that Dib's gone? Or Regret that you'll never get to face him on the battlefield?"

Zim continued staring blankly.

"Oh come on!" hissed Tak angrily. "You have to be feeling _something_ right now!"

"Ooh...I'm feeling something alright..." Pressing a button on his arm rest, Zim sent both the chair and Tak falling into a tiny, darkened agony booth. As she screamed in unimaginable pain, Zim snarled over the intercom, "In the last few seconds you have of sanity before the _agony_ becomes unbearable, I'm going to answer you pathetic question. I feel Regret. Regret that, one of the greatest fighters I have EVER known met his end at the bottom of a hole buried in stinking mud by a vindictive, hose-beast, skank whore-monster like you!" With an angry flick, he cut off the intercom and upped the agony threshold to maximum.

"That human deserved better." he muttered, stroking the arm gently.

_Elsewhere..._

Mike Hunt, server of Mac Meaty's no. 5,5756 on Route 999, had never been so bored in the entirety of his fast-food career. Alone and in the vacuous emptiness of the restaurant, Hunt had exhausted all the possible ways a human being could amuse themselves using a Slurpie machine, straws, and packets of condiments. He'd even braved a look in the managers office for dirty magazines...

Now all he did was stare vacantly out at the lifeless roadway and the surrounding scrub that crowded every visible inch of ground. A strange movement of bushes caught his eyes.

While Mike stared, a young boy in a tattered trench coat stumbled across the road. As he got closer to the Mac Meaty's, he noticed that the guy was covered in grim from the tip of his frizzled cowlick to the tips of his scuffed boot, and carrying an equally grimy shovel in one hand... a hand which, Mike slowly realized to his horror, was complete devoid of flesh...

The boy with the skeleton hand walked nonchalantly into the restaurant and over to the register. Leaning his shovel against the counter, the boy straightened his fractured and twisted glasses. "May I have a Large Classic Poop please?"

"...And that's when Tak threw me into the wall." Skoodge gasped, feeling winded from having explained everything that had happened since the crazed female had arrived at Zim's base.

"So let me see if I got this right: Tak read the readouts on my condition s that's why she killed Dib."

Skoodge nodded happily.

"And the human did _what_ to me, again?"

"Uh...well, he..." The bundle of alien pudge shifted uneasily under Zim's gaze. "You know..."

"Know _what_?" That migraine from earlier was now line-dancing it's way across his brain.

"They think Dib raped you, stupid meat-sack!" barked the computer, glad the loudspeaker was back on. "R-A-P-E! You know: Ravished! Taken against one's will! Sexually assaulted! Gotten with smeet without prior consent! Expecting an unwelcome visit! Knocked up with avengeance!"

Zim gaped at the computer in shock for a brief second. Then the screaming started.

"What the-- How can I be pregnant?! I'm MALE! MALE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" He failed his claws wildly.

"But Dib was male too! And males only do **_that_** with females." Skoodge firmly declared.

"Squeak." countered Mini-moose.

"Yah," agreed the computer. "Zim is a bit light in the combat-boots, if you get me..."

Zim hissed in barely suppressed rage. "I am _not_!"

"Anyway," Skoodge huffed. "That wouldn't explain how all that human DNA showed up in Zim's body! Unless you and Dib recently had..." His voice trailed off under the deadly glare of his fellow Invader.

If computers could snicker nastily, than the base computer would've done so. "Hehe... the fleshy moron's got a cream-filled center..."

"That's just sick." Zim said flatly. "Just because it's human DNA doesn't mean I'm pregnant or full of Dib _stuff_...:"

"Then how did it get there, sir?"

"Simple, Skoodge. I _put _it there."

The rotund one's jaw-dropped. "Huh?"

"Obviously, you are astounded by my _brilliance_." Zim purred, grinning. "See, Skoodge, in order to surpass the Dib, I had to first overcome my weakness against Earth's vile hazards! By sneaking into his bedroom one night, I obtained a sample of Dib's.. eh, _secretions_ and fashioned a retrovirus from that to introduce just enough human DNA to grant me immunity to the effects of Earth food and water. Unfortunately, the only way to activate the retrovirus was to be beaten to a state of near-death, but once again Dib served as a tool for his own destruction... Or at least what would've been his destruction had that HORRIBLE Tak not killed him..." He ground out that last sentence.

"But sir..."

Zim gestured him to silence. "I know, I know! It's a massive violation of Invader protocol to combine our _superior_ Irken genes with those of the stink beasts we're going to conqueror. But I'm sure the Tallests will understand that we had resort to desperate measures to handle Dib..."

"_We_?" meeped Skoodge weakly.

"Of course! I gave the retrovirus to you too."

Leaving Skoodge gaping in stunned horror, Zim went over to the console chair. "Computer, give me the coordinates to Tak's base on Earth. We'll use whatever weapon she had to finish our mission and return to Irk..."

_Meanwhile..._

Tak writhed in pure _AGONY_ as the booth evil energies seared through her. For the thousandth time, she prayed for the mercy of blissful oblivion to seize her, yet it never came. All was pain and pain was all Tak knew now. There was only the _pain_...and a burning thirst for vengeance upon the one who had put her there in the first place.

She could still hear Zim's voice echoing through her tortured mind. It battered and reverberated down to the very core of her, feeding a hatred that was already burning with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns!

In a brief moment of clarity, Tak saw something enter the room. It stared at her from across the room, eyes and chest blazing with angry red light. A tiny hand reached toward the "LAUNCH" button.

"This is for the tacos."

Wracked by a fresh wave of _AGONY_, Tak could only scream as G.I.R. slammed a fist down on the button and sent the booth rocketing out of base to hurtle into the cold depths of space.


	6. Calling All Hamsters!

We're closing out this fic with a BANG!

{**WARNING!** _The following chapter was written under the influence of post-move insanity. Please keep all limbs inside the fic at all times and deposit your remaining sanity by the door. May contain ambiguity, plot holes, and references to Japanese monster movies, as well as massive Freudian puns. Do not read if you are a male-pregnant or maybe male-pregnant, nursing, have dizzy spell, are allergic to tacos or slash, drinking soda, or a Gundam Wing/ Evangelion fan. Song "Faint" belongs to Linkin' Park. Lyrics are in ( these). Do not taunt the Happy Fun-ball. Boundaries of what is allowed by a PG-13 rating will be pushed. Thank you and have a nice day._}

**An Invader Scorned!**

_Chapter 6: "Calling All Hamsters!"_

To Gaz, the evening was going perfectly. She had just settled on the couch with the last can of Grape Poop firmly in hand. There was going to be a five-hour 'Vampire Piggy Hunter: The Series' marathon and no-one else was home to bother her. It was going to be a perfect, Dib-free evening with her beloved Piggy Hunter.

Without any warning, Professor Membrane's monitor screen zoomed into the living room. It darted around for a while as the professor searched, then hovered over to the couch.

"Oh daughter," asked Membrane, unfazed by his child's growl of annoyance as he swooped in front of the TV. "Have you seen that insane genius brother of yours? There's a itty-bitty problem in the city that I need his help for, but I can't seem to get a hold of his cell-phone. It's...eh, a little more than I can handle..."

In the background, screams and explosions could be heard.

"Dib's not home." Gaz answered curtly, glad there were only a commercials on.

"Oh. Well, be a good girl and bring him up to the lab."

She opened one eye skeptically. The opening strains of the 'Piggy Hunter' began to play. "Why should I?"

"Because I'm your father and I'm telling you to."

"Fine." Gaz hopped off the couch, grabbed her coat and popped an old tape in the VCR as she headed out the door.

_A few blocks away..._

Skoodge sat on the couch, meditatively slurping on his soda. He rubbed his double-chin. "I still don't know. Are you sure that's how you milk a human?"

"Of course I am!" huffed the computer. "You grab the fleshy bit and tug on it till the milk comes out. I've seen it on a hundred web-sites."

"But why the males? I thought only females were suppose to give milk?" Skoodge mused. "Unless the Dib was a female..."

The computer made a laughing noise. "Nah... I don't think Zim try that with a female..."

"I dunno...." The tubby Invaders chugged back an alien power-bar. "Why, I remember back in training how he use to be really good at doing...well, _you know_... In fact, that was the only thing he ever excelled at." Skoodge shook his head as he sighed. "Zim would have made a good Breeder if he wasn't so stupid."

"Oh, come on!" groused the computer. "Zim's a flaming fairy!"

"Computer, as G.I.R. been messing around with your CPU again? Cause, last time I checked, Zim was neither a flitting little Earth pixie nor on fire!"

"I meant 'fairy' in the _other_ sense." Seeing that Skoodge wasn't catching on, the computer sighed. "Look, lard-bucket, I'm saying that our yappy megalomaniac is a **_homosexual_**. As in, he no be interested in the females... Heck, Zim sets off my gaydar every time he waltzes into the house!"

"He's just really happy." mumbled Skoodge, trying to defend his slightly cracked superior.

"Wanna bet?"

"Sure! 4,000 monies says that Zim is an out-an-out Breeder." The Irken grinned, sure that the computer wouldn't match his sum.

"Alrightee then," replied the computer causally. "I'll see your 4,000 monies and raise you 6,500,000 monies that our Zimmy boy is a screaming fag."

Skoodge paled. "Where...where did you get that?"

Outside, storm clouds crushed in overhead and turned the cheery sunshine into the post-apocalyptic orange glow of DREAD. The surrounding houses changed into ominously pointy shadows that clawed up into the darkened sky and loomed over the cracked road.

A ragged figure walked up the pavement, carrying a mud-caked shovel behind his back. Bloodied and dirty, he radiated an aura of terrifying purpose and rage blinded madness. When he reached the conspicuous green house, he stood, readied his shovel, and marched determinedly through the gnome-field to the door step.

[Ding-a-ling!]

Still wondering _what _a computer would need to have 6,500,000 monies in petty cash for, Skoodge hopped off the couch and opened the door.

Coated in dirt and gore, Dib smiled down at him, tapping the shovel against his palm. It was the sort of expression that normally comes bearing a butcher knife.

For a millisecond, the pudgy Irken stood with wide eyes and antenna drooped in fear. Then Skoodge screeched in terror, slamming the door shut and barred it with his hefty bulk.

The door shuddered for a moment, then the pounding stopped.

Skoodge relaxed a bit, hoping that Dib had just wandered off. It was quite a nasty surprise when a skeletal arm burst through and grabbed him around the neck. He struggled and squirmed against the stranglehold as he was unmercifully slammed into the door, then the hand let go.

From his new position sprawled out on the floor, Skoodge got a good view of the door as Dib bashed a massive hole in it with the shovel.

Dib leaned in, still bearing that smile. _"Here's Johnny." _

Meeping in pure terror, Skoodge made an attempt to flee but caught the flat end of a shovel for his trouble. The blow slung his chubby body into the alien monkey portrait and then bounced off the TV as the floppity cartoons played on. A second swing sent Skoodge flying headfirst into the toilet in the kitchen.

The smile didn't twitch as he floated over to the toilet. Grasping the toilet lid, it broadened in a way befitting scales and small wading birds.

"Where's Zim?" rasped Dib.

"Wha-what?" Skoodge gurgled.

Dib slammed the lid down violently. "Where's Zim?"

Spasming in pain, Skoodge couldn't reply.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the answer Dib wanted.

SLAM!- _"Where's Zim?" _SLAM!- _"Where's Zim?!" _SLAM!- _"Where's **Zim**?!" _

"He's not here, stupid."

The maniac grin slipped as Dib blinked, then let the lid drop with one last thump as he turned to his scowling sister. "Gaz? What the hell are you doing here?!"

"Watching you be stupid. Now, quit playing with your dumb friend and go see what Dad wants at the lab."

Dib fixed her with an icy glare. "I'm in the middle of a roaring rampage of rage and revenge here. Now, if you don't mind..." He made a little shooing motion, putting his crazy smile back on as he reached back for the toilet lid.

Growling, a back drop of fiendishly eldritch shades appeared behind Gaz as she shifted into Psycho-PMS mode. The baseball bat sprung magically into her hand.

Various grisly noises and screaming came out to the kitchen, and soon Gaz was dragging her brother, freshly beaten and bound up in another straitjacket, across the living room floor.

"Gaz...you...have...to...let...me...GO!" gasped Dib as he struggled to get loose. "Must...have...VENGANCE! This...this...is _personal_. Zim...Zim must PAY!"

"Then try going downtown." Gaz hissed, jerking a thumb at the TV screen.

"Huh?" Turning his head, Dib saw that the floppity cartoons had been interrupted by a Special News Bulletin.

"...Citizens flee in panic as the giant hamster borg, Mega-Ultra Peepi, runs amok through downtown." Shots of the reconstructed hamster wrecking havoc fill the screen as the news chopper flits a safe distance away. "So far the combined efforts of the army, air force, and a crack team of scientist lead by Professor Membrane have been unable to stop this relentless force of fluffy cute fury!"

In the background to all the hamster wrought carnage, technotronic music begins blaring.

_(I am a little bit of loneliness...)  
(...a little bit of disregard...)_

Lit by the grim cockpit lights, Zim's skin gleamed a gory red as his now greenish eyes glare at the heads-up display before him. With a deftness that comes from over a hundred years of piloting machines of destruction, he brought the enormous metal claws of Mega-Ultra Peepi slashing into the side of a high-rise apartment complex. After that, he sent the hamster charging through a block of buildings, crushing the pitiful humans as they ran screaming for cover.

All the mindless violence and mayhem he was wrecking should've left the megalomaniacal Invader squealing in destructive bliss. But that had been before...

_( Handful of complaints, but I can't help the fact )  
( ...that everyone can see these scars...)_

Zim was currently running off deep-rooted Invader conditioning. The Irken drive for conquest had been the sole reason he went out to steal...eh, 'reclaim' the hamster borg from Tak's makeshift island base. It was also the only reason he bothered to continue his mission of raining doom onto the pathetic humans.

There was no joy left in his superior heart as he callously tore a swath of annihilation through the city in his adorable hamster mecha of death. Only the ruthless efficiency of a brave, albeit very depressed, Irken solider. Once, Zim had more reason to go tearing off on a crazed riot of DOOM. And in one despicable act of deception, both were gone.

Somehow, even the screams of the dying and a constant boom of explosions couldn't brighten his mood. Now it just seem pointless and annoying to Zim, like having a very prolonged physical examination.

_( I am what I want you to want...)  
(...what I want you to feel...)_

The pitiful military humans with their useless little missiles and planes only grated on his already his irritated nerves. It was a depressingly simple matter to stamp them into oblivion with one mighty stomp of Mega-Ultra Peepi's paw. They were hardly worth the effort.

None of these humans were worthy of destruction at Zim's hands. Not any single one of _them_.But there used to be a human that was worth of such a...personal touch.

_( But it's like, No matter what I do, )  
( I can't convince you to just believe this is real )  
( ...So I let go...)_

In retrospect, Zim knew this would've really impressed Dib. All the carnage, the utter brutality of his method may just have been enough to show that stuck-up little monkey just how serious a threat he, ZIM!, was to the human's precious planet.

_( Face away and pretend that I'm not...)_

Now Dib was gone.

_( ...'cause you're all that I've got... )_

"WE'RE DOOMED!!!!!" screamed a technician as the wall of monitors flashed scene after scene of devastation Mega-Ultra Peepi wreaked upon the hapless city as it trudged ever nearer to the laboratory/giant robot hangar. The rest of the scientists follow suit.

"Get a hold of yourself, Simmons!" Professor Membrane barked, grasping his panicked assistant firmly by the shoulders and giving him a few 'soothing' shakes. "We are SCIENTIST man! SCIENTIST! And if there is one thing I have learned over the years, it is that SCIENCE, **_real SCIENCE!_**,always prevails!"

Dropping the dazed man, Membrane pointed a defiant finger at his latest invention: a hulking walker-type mecha with a colossal cannon dangling between it's chickeny legs. "Behold! The mighty Photon Hyper-Accurate Laser-Lobbing Implosion Cannon Mech: Gundam PHALLIC!"

An awkward silence followed. Even the music, which had been trilling along in the background, came to an astonished stop.

The professor looked around confused. "What?"

The muffed replies went along the lines of "...whoa! that thing's _hung _like a..." and "...you need to find yourself a girl, mate...". A few snickers came from the female staff.

Glaring, Membrane crossed his arms in a gesture of supreme annoyance. "Look people, can we just forego the juvenile commentary and get back to saving life as we know it? Or would you rather be squished by a giant monster of cybernetic cuteness while laughing at my choice of acronyms?"

After some grumbling, plus the occasional remark about the professor's sex life (or lack of ), the scientist went back to being all dramatic and tense as the music came back on.

"But sir! Who's going to pilot that thing?" asked a researcher.

Membrane gestured toward the main lab entrance.

Slowly, the mechanized doors hissed open in a cloud of steam and light, to reveal the pilot of Gundam PHALLIC.

_( I am a little bit insecure...)  
( ...a little unconfident... )_

Dib, cleaned up and with an improved bionic arm, looked at the assembled subordinates as they stared vacantly back at him. He should've known this was going to be another embarrassing father-son moment when the assistant forced him to wear a skintight purple and blue flight suit.

_( Cause you don't understand...)_

Slumping, he let out a weary sigh and plodded over to his beaming father, trying hard to ignore the perpetual wedgie the suit gave him with each step.

_( I do what I can... )_

Membrane hooked his arm around his son's shoulders, unaware of the icy way Dib scowled at the half-hearted display of paternal affection. "My insane but heroic son has volunteered to pilot Gundam PHALLIC and save us all from death at the hands... eh, _paws_ of Mega-Ultra Peepi!"

_( But sometimes I don't make sense...)_

Suddenly, a dim scrap of recall hit Dib. "Wait a second... Isn't this the same mech that caused the army to cut off it's funding for after they found out every person who test piloted it went completely insane from the massive photon-kinetic exposure?"

_( I say what you never want to say...)_

"Well, yes son. This is the same mech that cost me some funding. FOOLS! Always with their ethics and their silly concerns about pilot safety..." Membrane cut short his rant when he remember that several of those 'fools' were standing right next to him. He beamed back at his son. "But I don't think you'll have much to worry about..."

"Why's that?"

"Cause you're already insane."

_( But I never had a doubt...)_

There was the briefest flicker of shock in Dib. Then came the anger...

_( It's like, no matter what I do...)  
( I can't convince you, )  
( For once, just to hear me out...)_

"I...am...not...CRAZY!!!!" he snapped, pulling off an impressive feat of getting right into the face of his exceedingly tall parent. "And I'm sick and tired of you constantly using me like some kind of a human guinea pig for your experiments! It's like I'm not even your son anymore, just a plan B for whatever stupid monster rampage or world-shattering comet or flesh eating virus you can't deal with! Most of the time, this shit happens cause you're playing at being God again! So you can take your precious **_real SCIENCE_** and shove it! I'm feed up with being humanity's fucking savior."

"So..." the professor drawled, smarting a bit from his offspring's rant. "You're going to doom all humanity to a hamstery death just to spite me?"

"No. Because the hamster's really an organic battle-mech being controlled by an alien."

_( ...So I let go...)_

That maniac smile had returned. "The pilot and I have unfinished business..."

_(Watching you...)  
(Turn you back like you always do...)_

As Dib climbed into the cockpit of Gundam PHALLIC, the professor gave him a weak thumbs up then turned back to bark orders at some random assistants. After all, it takes a special kind of heartless bastard to send his own son off to battle in a soul-destroying mech...

Without breaking a sweat, Dib snapped on the engines and initiated the various start-up procedures. Lights flickered on and surrounded him in a faintly ultra-violet glow as the mech rumbled to life.

_( But I'll be here...)  
( 'cause you're all that I've got...)_

With a deafening roar, the mech blasted out of the hangar doors and into the blaring daylight.

_( I can't feel the way I did before!)_

Surges of indescribable ecstasy and power danced through Dib's brain as he adjusted to the neural interface linking his body to the controls of Gundam PHALLIC. To be blunt, the sensation can only be describing as having the greatest orgasm in the _EVER_. The feeling was so overwhelming that for a second, Dib forgot where and even _who_ he was.

_(I won't be ignored...)_

For some bizarre reason, images of Zim started flashing past his eyes.

That was enough to shock Dib out of sex-stoned bliss and back to reality... then well past rational thought into to tempestuous waters of murderous rage...

_(Time won't heal this damage anymore!)_

Giving in to an even more frenzied state of bloodlust than when he had attacked Skoodge, he charged full-tilt down the street, heedless of the damage caused as the mech tore through cars, building, lamp-posts, tanks, and an unfortunate street mime. After cutting his own smoldering path of destruction, Dib's mech skidded to a halt before the titanic bulk of Mega-Ultra Peepi. "Great,"

Zim yawned, idly playing with the controls. "Another weak Earth soldier. How thrilling..."

_( Don't turn you back on me...)  
( I won't be ignore...)_

Bored, he sent the command for Peepi to hurl a piece of concrete at the stupid human toy then turned the hamster mech around.

_( NOW!)_

The chunk of rubble promptly exploded in a mass of jagged shrapnel, cutting through toughened hide of Peepi's backside. The hamster roar in pain.

_(Hear me out now! )  
( You're gonna listen to me like it or not!)  
( Right NOW!)_

"ZIM!!!!!!!!!!" screamed a strangely familiar voice. "You and I have unfinished business!"

"Dib?!" Stunned, the Irken turned back around to face the offending mech.

"Yes! Thought I was dead, didn't you?" Dib began laughing the crazy sort of laugh that goes well with the whir of a chain-saw.

_(I can't feel...)_

"LYING HUMAN!" Zim roared back, flooded with a strange fury at hearing his dead nemesis's voice. "You cannot be the Dib! He's dead! Dead! How dare you try to trick me, Zim!, in such a horrible manner!"

The cackling outburst cut off. "It's no trick! I really am Dib!"

_(...time won't heal...)_

"Oh, you disgusting monster!" growled the Invader. "I've had it with you smelly lies!" With that, Zim wrenched the controls hard and Mega-Ultra Peepi slammed both his fuzzy fist of fury into the pavement, sending out shockwaves that sundered the remaining buildings to either side of Gundam PHALLIC. As the last flicks of dust settled upon the mound of rumble that had buried the mech, Zim allowed himself a satisfied smirk.

"Good work, Peepi." He turned the hamster around and started off. "Now, let's..."

_( Don't turn you back on me...) _

Zim failed to see Dib's mech crawl out of the rumble and aim the cannon at him. He also missed the tell-tale sound of a massive energy build-up coming from behind.

But Peepi did.

_( I WON'T BE IGNORED!!!!)_

**FWOOM!!!!**

The Photon Hyper-Accurate Laser-Lobbing Implosion Cannon erupted in a display of pyrotechnic force that sent both the hamster and the mech flying backwards, leveling what few buildings that had been left standing.

Weakened and near-death, Mega-Ultra Peepi ejected Zim from the cockpit in his hamstery chest and burrowed his way deep into the bedrock beneath the city.

"What the hell was that?!" Getting up from the slab of concrete he had landed on, Zim stared at the gargantuan scorch mark leading from the newly dug monster-hamster burrow to the crumbling remains of a Chicken-Lickey restaurant sever hundred city-blocks away.

Cautiously, he deployed his spider legs and staggered to the degenerate chicken eatery.

"HIYA MASTER!" squealed G.I.R. as the robot gorged itself upon looted fried chicken. "Were you thirsty for chicken too?!"

"Not now G.I.R...." Zim rasped, shoving the greasy bucket of mayo-slathered bird parts away as he advanced upon the motionless hulk of Gundam PHALLIC. He crept slowly up the side and crouched just over the cockpit as the hatch swung open.

"whoa..." Dib murmured, feeling vaguely stoned. He was part way out of the hatch when he realized someone was standing in front of him.

An eternity seemed to drag by as the human and the alien stared at each other. A burning piece of newspaper blew past, then...

"DIB!!!!" screeched Zim with an obscene smile of rapture as he pounced on the boy, sending them both falling back into the cockpit.

"I missed you, worm-boy! Missed your big ugly head! And your crazy babble! And your...And that...And those too!..."

"Hey! Get off! UMPH!" Futilely, Dib struggled to remove the clinging, squirming Irken. As he attempted to free himself, his hand accidentally hit the trigger of the excessively Freudian beam weapon...

**FWOOM!**

"Aww..." The defective robot grinned up at Mini-moose. "Dib missed him too!"

From there, the camera begins pulling rapidly back into an extreme aerial shot that reveals several looping letters formed by the ruins which spells,

"**THE END**".


End file.
